Chapter 1

Kaoru's world is falling apart, bit by bit. But he's holding on.

Kaoru Hirano had thought he had everything going for him for the last five years or so. 

He loved his job at the daycare. He loved children, despite never being able to have any of his own. It was his dream job. The kids were great, the other teachers were great, it paid well, and he lived close enough to his apartment that it didn't take long to get from one place to the other. 

The apartment was nice too. Despite almost never spending time there, it was a cozy one bedroom, perfect for Kaoru. It had a great view, and the neighbors were friendly as well. 

And he had been in a steady relationship for three years. His boyfriend had been kind and funny and handsome, entirely Kaoru’s type. 

But it’s said that good things never last for long.

Relationships were harder when you were gay in a world that didn’t accept that. People snuck around to get those special moments. Certain obligations were made to keep up the ruse. Things were kept secret to protect people. 

There was no other reason for him to trust Ken than the simple fact they were together, they loved each other, and both were trying to keep the relationship on the downlow to protect each other. 

Kaoru had trusted his boyfriend, explicitly. 

But then… just the night before… Ken had come to Kaoru, said his wife was pregnant and he wasn’t going to play pretend at a relationship with Kaoru anymore. 

The part that broke Kaoru’s heart wasn’t even the fact he’d been broken up with, or that it had been to chase a ‘normal’ relationship… but that he’d been a side piece. And had gone on like that for three years.

But still, Kaoru had let himself cry about it for one night, then picked himself up in the morning, wiped away his tears, and did his best to hide his red eyes. 

Kaoru was, as always, one of the first people to arrive at the daycare. The only exceptions were the kitchen staff, already hard at work for the day’s lunch, and Sayuri-chan with their newest addition to the class they co-taught.

Ayumu Hidaka had transferred into the school just two weeks prior, and it had quickly become recognized that he was going to be a troublesome student. Just as quickly, Kaoru had been wordlessly made his primary caretaker. The only time any other teacher was primarily focused on him was in the time before Kaoru arrived to work. 

Ayumu was always the first to arrive, and the last to leave. Kaoru knew the feeling all too well, having been in his position as a young child with parents who worked too hard. But he’d had his younger sisters, too. Ayumu was all alone.

Sayuri-chan perked up as Kaoru entered the classroom, her brown bob flouncing about her head. She turned excitedly in Ayumu’s direction, where he sat at one of the tables, slouched over it.

“Hidaka-kun, look who’s here!” she said, voice as perky as always.

Immediately, Ayumu looked up and turned in Kaoru’s direction. He glared at Kaoru before going back to his… it was a picture he was coloring, but from his distance, Kaoru couldn’t quite make out the contents of the image. 

Sayuri-chan patted Kaoru’s arm with a small smile. “You’ll win him over,” she promised. “You win them all over eventually. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were casting a magic spell to make all the kids love you best.”

Kaoru couldn’t help but laugh. “They love you plenty,” he reassured her. 

Sayuri-chan giggled. “Sure, but you’re their favorite. Now come on, I need you to help me make sure we have everything for later before the early risers get in.”

Kaoru hummed and followed Sayuri-chan to her desk and the objects stacked on top. 

With warm weather settling in, Sayuri-chan, more than Kaoru, was excited to plan more outings. She loved the ‘getting out and teaching the kids out in the world’ part of teaching. Her love of nature had even expanded into keeping a couple of plants in the corners of the classroom, which the children enjoyed the responsibility of making sure it was watered daily and fertilized weekly. 

Their event today started at lunch; they were going to take a picnic to the park, but it had also been organized that they’d go and plant baby trees in the surrounding forest. With such an outing, it had been important to remind the five-year-olds about the rules. They had to be always in sight of Kaoru and Sayuri-chan, they had to always travel with their five-person group, and they had to keep track of their belongings.

Most other things you’d expect as rules for children (listening to their teachers, not running off, not littering, etc.) came very naturally to the children after the past few years of practice, or could be refocused on easily.

“We already have all the saplings over at the park, right?” Kaoru said, looking down the list Sayuri-chan had made. She hummed excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Yup,” she said. “Takemura-san will be there waiting for us to arrive.” She giggled nervously. “But he said that he had seven instead of six, so we’ll have one extra.”

Kaoru smirked at her. “Well, I doubt it’ll go to waste,” he teased. “I’m sure there’s someone who’d love to plant it.”

Sayuri-chan laughed, loud and broad and wide. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it,” she stated. “You’ll have to help.”

Kaoru hummed with a bemused smile, and doublechecked the basket that held his and Sayuri-chan’s lunches and seven blankets. 

Then the second of their students arrived. 

The day progressed as it always did, with practical lessons in the morning leading up to lunch. And, despite how well they contained it, it was easy to see how barely contained the children’s excitement for the day out was. 

Finally, the bell for lunch came and Kaoru stood from his desk and clapped his hands. All the children quieted down and looked at him. He smiled at them. 

“Alright everyone,” he said. “Grab your bentos, hats, and jackets from the cubbies and line up by the door. Yes, you need to bring your jackets. It’s not quite summer yet, so if there’s a stiff breeze, you’re going to complain about being cold. Remember to group with your groupmates!”

The students swarmed the cubbies and hurried to stand in line, bouncing in place while waiting for Sayuri-chan and Kaoru to be ready. Sayuri-chan stood at the front, bright pink and yellow baseball cap on her head and matching jacket tied around her waist.

“Alright everyone, time to go,” she declared. She held out her hand, and the girl at the front of the line took it.

The children all joined hands as they marched out the door. Ayumu, last in line, frowned, but held out his hand with his bento for Kaoru to take. Kaoru smiled at him and did so, taking up the rear.

It wasn’t a necessarily long walk to the park, and a long time ago Kaoru might have thought they looked a funny sight, everyone walking with conjoined hands down the street. He’d long since stopped thinking it silly, and simply enjoyed the warm day out.

They arrived at the park and found a spot to eat. The leader of each group came to collect a blanket for their group to eat on. Once it looked like everyone had settled into place, Sayuri-chan nodded and spread out a blanket for her and Kaoru. As he sat down, Kaoru counted heads once again, finding Ayumu sitting separated from his group. 

He wasn’t far enough away from the class to be considered ‘too far’ but he had opted to sit in the grass and had his back turned to the boys and girls in his group. The other four didn’t seem bothered by that, and had formed a tight circle that excluded him even if he changed his mind. 

Kaoru frowned. Sayuri-chan followed his gaze and lightly nudged him with her elbow. “Do you think you can be professional in their notebooks or should I today?” she asked, a teasing tilt to her voice.

Kaoru huffed as he opened his own bento. “I’m always professional,” he grumbled. 

“How about this, you handle the notebooks and I’ll set up the parent meetings,” Sayuri-chan suggested. Kaoru hummed his agreement around his mouthful. Her smile lowered a bit. “Have you been able to get ahold of Hidaka-san yet?”

Kaoru shook his head. “All the calls go to voicemail. He doesn’t respond. The one he did answer on was very short and he said he’d call back to schedule a meeting, and you can see how well that’s gone…”

Sayuri-chan sighed, placing a hand on her cheek. “Geez, I can’t even catch him in the mornings either,” she said heavily. “He always sends Hidaka-kun up to the school by himself from the car. Truth be told, I don’t even know if it’s Hidaka-san in the car with him. I haven’t seen him since registration; I don’t know if I’d recognize him if he did come in.”

Kaoru had to agree on that one. He wasn’t sure if he’d have anything nice to say to Hidaka-san if he ever showed his face, either. 

Students quickly began to finish up their lunches and packing up, bringing their bentos and blankets to the teachers, all stacked and folded nicely. Kaoru agreed to stay nearby to watch their things while Sayuri-chan joined the kids near the toys. Children from another nearby school joined them, these children in green and blue instead of yellow and pink. 

The only one who didn’t immediately rush towards the toys was Ayumu. Kaoru watched him curiously for a few moments before approaching him and sitting down. Ayumu didn’t react besides looking at Kaoru out of the corner of his eye. He turned away a moment later.

“You don’t want to go play?” Kaoru asked. Ayumu shook his head stubbornly. “Why not?”

Ayumu clutched his legs closer to his chest. The bill of his cap cast a sad shadow over his eyes. “…None of the other kids wanna play with me,” he mumbled into his knees. 

Kaoru hesitated a moment, tilting his head. “That’s not very nice of them,” he said. “Have they said why?”

Ayumu shook his head. Stopped. Then he nodded, his nose bumping into his knee. He stopped and pressed his face into his knees. Kaoru waited for him to speak. “Some of ‘em call me a crybaby. The other ones call me a troublemaker.”

Ah, yes. Ayumu had had more than one breakdown during his first week. 

The first had been his first day, and he’d held out until lunch, but then he’d broken down crying and couldn’t stop. Sayuri-chan had taken him to the nurse’s office for some privacy, but he’d refused to tell her anything about why.

The second one had been the very next day, when he’d gotten into a physical fight with another student that Kaoru had had to break apart. The third had been similar, in that Ayumu had gotten violent. He threw something at one of the girls and had been taken into private to be reprimanded for it. 

In the time since, he’d had less, in the sort that such events were spaced farther apart. But he’d had multiple… altercations. Some, it could be argued that Ayumu started by antagonizing other students, and his bad attitude at times certainly didn’t help. But others, it was obvious that the others were antagonizing Ayumu until he lashed out at them.

Kaoru couldn’t exactly deny either of those claims either. “Well, there are other kids you could go play with,” he offered. “There’s another school here today.”

Ayumu frowned. “The kids from class are just gonna tell ‘em that I’ll beat ‘em up,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna stay here, Sensei. I don’t want company. Go away.”

Kaoru hummed, then stretched his arms above his head and laid out on his back. Ayumu furrowed his brows and looked in Kaoru’s direction. 

“What’re you doing?” Ayumu questioned. 

Kaoru grinned. “Comfy spot,” he said. “Gonna lay right here and cloud gaze.”

“Go away.”

“Ah, but I’m not here to keep you company. I’m here to watch the clouds pass by.”

Ayumu frowned but looked up at the sky with a squint. “Sounds boring.”

“No, not at all,” Kaoru said with a laugh. He pointed to a large cluster of clouds. “Look over there. Those look like a flock of birds.” Ayumu frowned at the clouds Kaoru pointed at.

“I don’t see it.”

Kaoru laughed again. “Okay, but how about… right there? It’s a dragon.” Kaoru pushed himself up on his elbows and pointed around Ayumu so the boy could follow it better. Ayumu’s head tilted, and he scrunched up his nose.

“No way,” he said. “That’s a sword.” He pointed to a fluffy cloud just a small distance from the cloud sword. “And that’s Cerberus, Hades’ dog. Only the chosen one can get the sword and defeat him!”

Kaoru chuckled. “Where’d you learn all that?” he asked.

Ayumu grinned brightly. “A book I got!” he said. “I learned a bunch of stuff! Hercules actually goes to borrow Cerberus from Hades by just asking, but I think fight scenes are so much cooler! There were lotsa other things Hercules already had to fight!”

Kaoru grinned and nodded along to Ayumu’s words. “But maybe that’s why Hercules didn’t want to fight Cerberus or Hades,” he said. “He’d already fought so many times before.”

Ayumu tilted his head, his face scrunched up in confusion. 

Kaoru tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Sometimes, there’s a time and a place to fight,” he said. “Sometimes, it’s the only thing you can do, or the best way to do it. But sometimes, even if it’s not the easiest, it’s best to talk it out. To show compassion and kindness. Or to ask for what you want instead of just taking it.”

Ayumu went quiet. He looked down at the grass. “Even if it’s hard?”

Kaoru nodded. “Good people aren’t always pretty, and the easy thing isn’t always right,” he said. “My mother told me that when I was your age. Kindness isn’t always easy, but it’s worth it.”

Ayumu nodded. He stayed quiet for a few minutes. “Sensei, is it okay if I stay here still?”

Kaoru smiled softly, rolling back onto his back. “Yeah, Hidaka-kun, it’s fine,” he said. “Still want me to leave?”

Ayumu was quiet again. “…No.”

“Okay. Then I’ll stay.”

The energy of children was downright frightening sometimes. Despite having played off a good portion of their energy after lunch, most of them were still eager and ready to run about more. 

However, they all kept in line and followed after Sayuri-chan onto the path leading through the forest to the little grove where they’d be planting their trees. As promised, Takemura-san was waiting for them. Seven saplings were evenly spaced around the grove so they’d be able to grow up healthy, each with a neatly dug hole right by it.

“Alright, everyone,” Sayuri-chan said. “Please greet Takemura-san and thank him for helping us out today!”

All the children, Sayuri-chan, and Kaoru turned to the elderly man and bowed in unison. “Thanks for helping us today, Takemura-san!” they chorused. 

Takemura-san chuckled and waved his hand in their direction. “It’s my pleasure,” he said. 

“Would you like to explain the process before we begin?” Kaoru suggested, and Takemura-san broke out into a large grin. 

The next several minutes were directing the children to their saplings and Takemura-san explaining each part of the tree, how deep the hole was, why it needed to be that deep, and why they were spaced so far apart. 

Ayumu shuffled nervously a few steps away from his group, seemingly unable to break into the flow of helping. One of the girls from another group giggled happily on her way from her group to Sayuri-chan, not looking where she was going. She bumped into him and fell onto the ground with a groan of pain, her hat flying off her head and into the dirt.

Ayumu jumped and turned to her, a deep frown on his face. He opened his mouth to shout and she flinched, turning away and beginning to shake in place. Ayumu closed his mouth and swallowed. 

“So-Sorry,” he said, flushing as he held his hand out for the girl to take. “Are you okay?”

The girl still cowered. “You’re not gonna hit me, are you?” she whimpered.

“N-No!” Ayumu exclaimed. He flinched. “Uh, um, n-no…” He began to lower his hand.

Hesitantly, the girl grabbed it before he could rescind it completely and used it to pull herself to her feet. “Um, thanks,” she said, looking down.

“Yeah…” Ayumu said. He looked towards Kaoru. Kaoru smiled and nodded in affirmation. Ayumu smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown at the girl’s whimper.

She picked up her hat sadly. “It’s all dirty now…” she said. Mud smeared across the side of it, likely staining it. 

Ayumu easily took his off and held it out to her. “Here, you can use mine,” he said. She looked at him curiously.

“Are you sure…?” He nodded, and they traded hats. She dashed off back to her group, her mission to go to Sayuri-chan forgotten.

Ayumu frowned at the muddy hat as Kaoru approached. He flipped off his own hat and slid it onto Ayumu’s head. Ayumu looked up, the too large hat trying to slip off his head. 

“You did a good job,” Kaoru praised. He took the girl’s hat from him.

“Sensei, it’s not going to fit you,” Ayumu said. “And it’s all dirty…”

Kaoru grinned, fixing the hat to his belt. “It’s fine,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go plant a tree, yeah?”

Ayumu’s eyes brightened and he followed Kaoru to the last tree. He helped Kaoru put the tree into the ground and pat the dirt back into place. When they stepped back and looked around the grove, with the seven trees all in a circle, Kaoru grinned. 

“In a few years, this place is going to look pretty good,” he said. 

Ayumu reached over and lightly pinched Kaoru’s arm right above his wrist. “I think it looks pretty good already,” he said, and Kaoru laughed. 

“You’re right, kid,” he said, hands on his hips. “It really does.”

The moment was broken by Sayuri-chan waving from the other side of the grove. “Alright kids, it’s time to head back to school!” she called. “It’s almost time for you to go home!”

“Yes sensei!” the kids chorused, rushing to collect their bentos and long forgotten jackets.

The wind began to pick up and Kaoru shivered, despite the fact he’d been wearing his jacket since they’d left the school.

“And put your jackets on, properly!” Kaoru shouted. “The wind’s picking up and I’d hate for anyone to catch a cold.”

One of the girls let out a yelp as the wind tried to knock her jacket out of her hands as she tried to put it on and Ayumu fumbled to keep the hat on his head. Kaoru put his hand on Ayumu’s head to prevent it from flying off. 

“Better keep a good hold of that,” he said.

Ayumu nodded and they headed for the line leading out of the forest, Takemura-san following right behind Kaoru with all his supplies. Right at the park, the children thanked him once again before they headed for the school once more. 

They’d almost made it to the school, the building right across the street as they crossed the crosswalk, when Kaoru’s hat flew right off Ayumu’s head. With a shout, Ayumu broke away from the line and went dashing after it. 

“Hidaka!” Kaoru shouted. 

“I hafta get it!” Ayumu shouted, running after the hat.

“Get out of the street!” Sayuri-chan shrieked. 

A quick glance to the side was all Kaoru needed to know the light had turned. He ran for Ayumu as he picked up the hat with a relieved sigh. 

“Ayumu!” Kaoru shouted.

There was a screech of tires. Kaoru didn’t look behind him, only took Ayumu and threw him towards the rest of the class. 

And then everything hurt.

Kaoru was flying.

He was rolling.

Skidding across the gravel.

Then a numbness.

Sounds were muffled and stretched. Objects were going out of focus. 

Sayuri-chan stumbled into his field of vision. Her hands felt cold against his arm, his chest, his face. Or maybe he was the one that was cold?

“Kaoru-kun, Kaoru, please, stay awake for me,” she pleaded. “An ambulance is on its way. You’ll be okay, alright? Stay with me, Kaoru, stay with me.” Her voice was so distant… 

Kaoru’s head lolled to the side, eyes trying to close despite his best efforts. Ayumu sat there, tears falling down his face and clutching the hat tightly to his chest while on his knees.

“Sensei… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… It’s my fault… It’s all my fault…” Ayumu whimpered. But he was okay. He was okay.

Kaoru cracked a small smile. “You’re… a good… good kid… Ayumu Hidaka…”

Everything went silent.

Then everything went black.

Reviews

[JayG]

I write a lot though I find it hard to finish things, largely due to rising anxiety that what I write is never good enough

There’s a reason for that, and, it’s not one you would even suspect. It lies in some things your teachers never told you, and, an assumption that everyone makes. It’s so common that I call it, The Great Misunderstanding. Basically, we all leave school thinking we learned how to write.

We learned a form of writing, yes, and it’s given for a good reason, but…Because the pros make it look so natural and easy, we leave our school days with the belief that writing-is-writing, and assume that with the technical part taken care of, all we need is a good story idea, a knack for words, and a bit of luck.

If only...

But, did a single teacher mention the goal of fiction? No. Did they explain why a sceme on the page is dramatically different from one on stage, or even what the elements that make it up are? After all, if we don't truly understand that, how can we write one?

We all leave school believing that our goal is to to tell the reader a story—to explain an interesting, and perhaps exciting series of events. But the reality? E. L. Doctorow put it well with: “Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it’s raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.”

The thing we all forget is that they offer degree programs in Commercial Fiction-Writing. And you have to figure that at least some of what’s taught there is necessary. Right?

So, what kind of writing do we learn in school? A set of general skills that most employers need us to know. And what kind of thing do we write for employers? Reports, papers, and, letters—all nonfiction applications, practiced over our school years via assignments to write reports and essays, with a now and then piece of short fiction that we wrote with those same nonfiction skills. But since our teachers learned their writing skills in those same classrooms, who's to tell them?

So, when we turn to fiction, we use what we know, and because it’s how we were taught to write, and already know the story, never notice a problem. When we read our own work, we hear our own voice, emoting and storytelling, filled with exactly the right emotion. But who else, in the entire world, knows how you want the words performed?

And in that lies the reason you’re uncertain about your writing. When you create the story it lives. But a month later, because that context and performance data in your mind has faded, it seems to be missing something, but you’re not sure what.

Look at a few lines from the opening, not as the all-knowing storyteller, but as a reader, who knows nothing but what you tell them, and who has only the meaning that the words suggest to the reader, based on their life, not your intent:

• Kaoru Hirano had thought he had everything going for him for the last five years or so.

So…someone who could be of any age, location, profession, and situation had enjoyed life for an inexact number of years? Who cares? Story is what happens. This is history, and as it's read, meaningless to anyone but you, because only you have context.

As a scene-setting opening when telling a tale at the campfire it might work, because of the personal touch. But on the page, where the emotion in the words is only what punctuation suggests?

• He loved his job at the daycare.

As the janitor? The diaper changer? The administrator? You know. He knows. Even the kids know. The reader? Not a clue. My point? If he does, won't we know that by how he behaves, and how others respond? As Mark Twain put it: “Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream.”

See how different what you get is from what the reader gets? It has nothing to do with your skill or talent. It’s that you begin reading with full knowledge of the character, the situation, and, what’s about to happen.

So in reality, though it wasn’t your intention, you’ve written a report. You, the narrator, who is neither in the story nor on the scene, are reporting, explaining, and commenting, with the objective of informing the reader, your tone that of a dispassionate external observer, when the reader is expecting to be made to feel, and care—to feel the rain.

Kind of a huge whoops, but, it’s one that pretty much all of us make, and which every successful writer overcame. So there’s no reason you can’t. And the place to begin is with the basics—the skills the pros take for granted, and which you expect to see in use, even if you don’t recognize them as you read.

The library’s fiction-writing section can be a huge resource. Personally? I’d suggest starting with Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer, which recently came out of copyright protection. It's the best I've found, to date, at imparting and clarifying the "nuts-and-bolts" issues of creating a scene that will sing to the reader. The address of an archive site where you can read or download it free is just below. Copy/paste the address into the URL window of any Internet page and hit Return to get there.

https://archive.org/details/TechniquesOfTheSellingWriterCUsersvenkatmGoogleDrive4FilmMakingBsc_ChennaiFilmSchoolPractice_Others

So read a chapter or three. I think you’ll be glad you did, though your forehead will hurt from the times you pounded on it as you said, “How could I not have seen something so obvious, without having to have it pointed out.” That’s kind of fun for the first ten times. Then, it’s preceded by, “Noooo…not again.

For what it might be worth, the articles in my WordPress writing blog are based on the kind of thing found in such a book.

So…this, I know, was unexpected, and a very large ouch, after all the time, and emotional commitment that writing such a book takes. But on the other hand, you now know something critical, and given that we’ll not address the problem we don’t see as being one, I thought you’d want to know.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/